


'cause i like you (yeah i like you)

by cherrybirds



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, arthur is a very tired librarian, lowkey a 3+1 because i'm way too lazy for a 5+1, mild pining, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 07:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20060335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrybirds/pseuds/cherrybirds
Summary: Arthur doesn't mind his job as a librarian- he really doesn't. It's quiet. There's a nice coffee house across the road. He gets paid to turn his nose up and sneer like an academic at idiots. There's also the fact that his family is one of the founders of the library, to the point where it may as well be privately owned.It's a peaceful little existence until a man who acts like Camelot's local idiot starts coming in constantly and asking for increasingly niche books, all while trying (relentlessly) to chat Arthur up.





	'cause i like you (yeah i like you)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Bohemian Like You - The Dandy Warhols which fucking shreds btw.   
sidenote i genuinely have NO idea what merlin or gaius' surnames are so I just used Emrys lmfao.   
it's only lightly beta read and by the end i kept typing Artheur on accident so BE NICE

Arthur doesn't mind his job as a librarian- he really doesn't. It's quiet. There's a nice coffee house across the road. He gets paid to turn his nose up and sneer like an academic at idiots. There's also the fact that his family is one of the founders of the library, to the point where it may as well be privately owned. 

It's a peaceful little existence until a man who acts like Camelot's local idiot starts coming in constantly and asking for increasingly niche books, all while trying (relentlessly) to chat Arthur up. This man, as Arthur has unwillingly learned, is called Merlin- a decidedly stupid name for a decidedly stupid man. He saunters in daily with his stupidly large ears which might endear a lesser person than Arthur, stupid blue eyes that might remind someone (but not Arthur!) of the sky and his stupid hair in a perpetual state of carefully curated messiness- which Arthur had made absolutely no note of whatsoever and hadn’t considered cute for even a second. His appearance was one thing- all this paired with a recurring (questionable) combo of red necktie and brown jacket. Then Merlin would open his big mouth. 

[1]

The first time Merlin comes in, it’s an unremarkably slow day. Arthur had been behind his desk staring up at the spiralling columns of Camelot’s public library for at least 5 minutes- it was a rather enchanting old building after all. Less so after working there every day for the past 5 years, but impressively decadent nonetheless. People tended to only bother him when they needed to check something out. Most would be warded off unless absolutely necessary due to his (rather potent, according to Morgana) resting bitch face. Not Merlin however, he simply bounded up to the desk on his gangly legs like he had no care in the world, catching Arthur’s moody gaze with an unfaltering smile. 

“Can I help you?” Arthur quipped, particularly going out of his way to channel all his boredom into one small sentence. He made absolutely no observations at all about the way Merlin’s ratty necktie hugged his neck, or how the vibrant red contrasted against the pallor of his skin. Not a single observation. 

Merlin hesitates momentarily before responding with “Er- yeah, actually. I’m looking for The Complete History Of Medieval Cure And Treatment? It’s by Gaius Emrys- he’s my uncle, actually.” 

Arthur looks Merlin up and down once more, heaving a sigh of mild disinterest before considering the shelf layout in his head. 

“It should be in the medical text section over there, behind criminology on the left. Organised by alphabetically by author.” He replies curtly, fully expecting that to be the end of their otherwise insignificant conversation. He glances at his desk for a moment before his gaze retreats back to Merlin’s lingering form. He raises an eyebrow, not even bothering to verbally ask the question of ‘why the fuck are you still here’. 

“Could you, like, help me find it? Please? I’m awful at finding things. Really.” Is Merlin’s slightly fidgety answer to his silent question. There’s a slightly nervous chuckle at the end of his words that Arthur doesn’t even begin to associate with words like charming or endearing or beguiling. Making a show of slightly rolling his eyes, Arthur stands, setting toward the offending book without even stopping to see if Merlin had followed. The quick footsteps of Merlin jogging after him reassured Arthur that he had. 

“Are you this rude to everyone who asks you for help?” Merlin inquired, his tone reading more playfully entertained than outright offended. Arthur is almost even more annoyed by it. 

“Yep!” Is Arthur’s blunt response, not even sparing a glance back at Merlin. 

“Maybe you should work somewhere you don’t have to help people then, huh?” This response in particular finally does earn Merlin a scathing glare, which only seems to egg on his small smirk. Arthur neglects to respond, speeding up his pace and picking out Merlin’s book in record time. He shoves it into Merlin’s hands, quietly snorting to himself when Merlin fumbles with the absolute brick of a book. He fully intended to strut back to his desk and pencil Merlin down as yet another miscellaneous annoyance- all according to plan until he caught Merlin’s eyes once more and the man grinned, winked and made a ‘call me!’ motion with his hands. Feeling his face burn slightly, Arthur chastised his body briefly before considering snapping back with a joke about ‘how is he supposed to call without a number?’. He kept his mouth shut in the end, not wanting to actually encourage Merlin to give his number (god forbid). 

If he felt mildly put out that Merlin left without offering his number, Arthur certainly didn’t acknowledge it. 

[2]

By the sixth time Merlin comes by, they’ve fallen into something of a repeat pattern. They’d unfortunately upgraded to a first name basis and Merlin had mumbled something about royal prats at least twice. Every single time, Merlin asks for some ridiculously specific book (which apparently bear no correlation to each other- medicine, advanced sewing, flower arrangements, etc. Arthur couldn’t understand it.). Every single time, Arthur has to get up and personally find it for him like some kind of manservant. Every single time, they playfully banter back and forth (for increasing amounts of time) before Merlin hits on Arthur yet again, prompting Arthur to clam up for some unknown reason and stalk back to his desk with his metaphorical tail between his legs. 

This time, it’s a book on ornithology. Arthur doesn’t even huff that hard when he stands up from his desk chair- something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Merlin judging from his brightened expression. Merlin is consistent in what he wears, if nothing else. The same brown jacket and red necktie, with various geek shirts and jeans on rotation. Upon noticing the faded Star Wars logo on today’s shirt, Arthur briefly considers watching it so they’d have more to talk about. As soon as the thought occurs, it is hastily discarded. 

“So what is it with you and this...Honestly just bizarre assortment of books?” Arthur questions, a mostly joking interrogative tone to his voice. Merlin just smiles mischievously at him, wagging his eyebrows before replying. 

“Well despite my financial status, sire, I am actually a multi-faceted human being, yeah? With many interests and traits? We poor people are just the same as you rich people underneath it all.” Merlin snarks, placing emphasis on the mocking (yet somehow tainted with affection) nickname he’d given Arthur. Arthur simply rolls his eyes, as usual, while scoffing. 

“Yeah, yeah- but fucking ornithology, Merlin? I mean what is that? Birds? One week it’s a book on the reproductive cycles of crustaceans, the next it’s birds. You are the weirdest man I’ve ever met.” Arthur snips back, leaning up to grab the book off its shelf. He notices Merlin’s eyes drop to the window of skin where his shirt rises and takes absolutely no satisfaction in it at all. His decision to lean in much further than he really needs to is entirely unrelated to this observation. Placing the hefty book in Merlin’s hands, he gives Merlin a pointed look to punctuate his words. 

“What can I say? I’m an interesting man. Now, sire, if you could possibly tear yourself away from my captivating spell so I can read, that would be appreciated.” Merlin said, heavy sarcasm permeating every word. 

Before he leaves, Merlin rushes by Arthur’s desk and slips a small piece of paper across to him. It’s a number, hastily written in what Arthur can only describe as chicken scratch using a glittery purple gel pen. Merlin’s number. The fluttering feeling in Arthur’s chest is probably just the dust of the old library settling in his lungs. 

Arthur resigns himself to text Merlin only so he can threaten to castrate him for ripping a square   
of paper out of their ornithology book. 

[3]

By the twenty second time Merlin visits, Arthur might possibly admit that they’ve developed a tenuous grasp on the concept known as ‘friendship’. They have a steady back-and-forth over text, though their face-to-face banter has only managed to become marginally friendlier (and a considerable amount flirtier). Arthur finds himself actually laughing at some of Merlin’s jokes now, which should probably be prompting him into some degree of Oh God Sort Yourself Out. On a particularly amenable day, there’s a chance Arthur might even acknowledge the sort of shockingly requited romantic tension between them. At this point, Merlin sends him shitty pick up lines as a substitute for ‘good morning’ and finishes many of his sentences with a cheeky wink or wiggle of his right eyebrow. Arthur finds the whole affair horribly sweet, in a twisted sort of way. 

Merlin doesn’t even pretend to ask for help anymore. Simply wanders in, proclaims the words “Intensive scrapbooking.” and begins walking toward the aforementioned book after Arthur. Logically, Arthur knows that he must know the library layout by now and is merely attempting to be annoying. He finds he only faintly minds. 

“What’s the reasoning, then? A scrapbook on lemon biology? You need to return that book soon by the way. I can only write off so many late fees, Merlin.” Arthur chastises mildly, already knowing Merlin will completely ignore him. 

“Actually, no. I just choose a random book every time because I enjoy your reluctant company.” Merlin’s tone is laced heavily with sarcasm and humour, but Arthur has a pleasant suspicion that his statement is actually pretty close to the truth. It’s the only viable reason for Merlin’s unconventional litany of book choices, anyway. Him and Merlin share a warm expression for a second before the moment dissipates and they continue to the correct book section. 

Merlin immediately goes to reach for the book himself, but Arthur smacks his hand away and stretches to reclaim it himself.

“You’re way too clumsy, Merlin. Ever since the incident with the book on teddy bears in politics, I’m reluctant to even let you in the damn building.” Arthur isn’t even fully lying with this explanation, it’s reason one of two. Reason two is that he wore tight jeans today specifically for this miniscule second in time.

Merlin groans with embarrassment, crossing his arms and replying with “You know that was an accident, Arthur! I tripped! It happens to us tall folk. You wouldn’t understand, being a microscopic 5’11 yourself. Maybe if you were 6’0 like me you’d get it.” 

Arthur pulls a face and pretends to reject the concept of Merlin being taller than him. If it was anyone else, his pride would be up in arms by now. Merlin does a concerningly good job of disarming his usually unrivaled pride, however. They do what they usually do- Merlin accepts his book, reads for about 15 minutes, then returns to Arthur to check the book out. Usually he lingers until someone else needing help comes along and forces him out. Sometimes Arthur wants to tell the other people in the library to fuck off and leave him and Merlin be. 

This time, however, Merlin doesn’t come back with a book. He just stands before Arthur, seemingly considering something and weighing it up in his head. After a small silence, Merlin’s expression hardens slightly and he seems to come to a decision. 

“Why don’t we ever hang out outside of this library? Like, as.. Like…” Merlin falters for the first time. Arthur hopes. “...Like friends do?” Merlin finishes. 

Arthur hopes his disappointment isn’t detectable in his tone as he counters with “Well, you’ve never asked me.”   
Merlin just nods to himself and lets out an absentminded hum, then turns around and leaves. Arthur allows himself a mildly downcast expression. 

[+1]

Arthur can’t believe the audacity of himself. Well- he can. He has no reason to be self conscious, after all. He’s intelligent. He has a good job. He’s athletic. He’s hot. The nervousness biting at every step he takes is surely down to something else. 

The bell of the door is accented by the other atmospheric noise within the pet shop. Arthur nervously wipes his boot against a paw shaped doormat as he shuffles his way inside, careful to avoid coming into contact with a large barrel of dog toys marked with a ‘SALE!’ sign as well as a smiley face sticker. Merlin currently has his back turned and is restocking the various jars of dog treats behind the counter. He turns quickly at the sound of Arthur coughing, still clutching a large tub of bone shaped biscuits under his arm. 

“Arthur! Arthur?” Merlin exclaims, going quickly from excitedly surprised to deeply confused. Arthur cautiously eyes the tub under his arm, the biscuits threatening to spill with Merlin’s jerky movements. 

“I still can’t believe you work in a pet shop, Merlin. I mean, why do you have so many lizards? What’s all this?” Arthur rambles, eyeing up an impressively large wall of lizard enclosures. He is absolutely not attempting to dance around his real reason for being here and would be convincingly offended at the implication of such. 

“Well, it’s my mum’s shop, y’know? Hunith’s Hounds? And, well- my dad just really likes lizards, I guess. Why exactly are you here?” Merlin answered with a matter of fact tone, sloppily setting down the tub and crossing his arms over the till. 

Arthur considers chickening out. He considers just insulting Merlin and running. But then he decides that no, he’s better than this whole situation. He’s gonna do it. 

“You- uh- I thought you’d need this book. From the library. Obviously.” Arthur pointedly looks toward the fish tanks as he slides Merlin a book entitled ‘Dating 101’. 

“Other than a thinly veiled barb at my lack of charisma, what exactly would I need this for?” Merlin queried, one eyebrow raised and a shaky smile that barely concealed the snicker trying to break free.   
“Because. Because I’m- we’re… I’m taking you on a date! Tomorrow! At 7PM! Wear something nice! Clotpole!” With his dignity FIRMLY intact, thank you very much, and a ferociously burning face, Arthur hastily exited the shop with about as much elegance as he had stumbled through his confession with. 

When he received a text from Merlin about 5 minutes later that said ‘i’d love to ~clotpole~ >;^)’, he absolutely did not smile. Absolutely not. Maybe. A little bit. 

In the ensuing months, the largely unused back sections of the library became very, very, VERY well acquainted with Merlin and Arthur.


End file.
